My mom is scheduled to have voluntary surgery on her neck tomorrow. She has one or more herniated discs that have been causing her pain for some time. The problem is that the discs are pressing up against her spinal cord. This makes her two options of either getting the surgery or not getting the surgery both risky. 

On one hand, even with our modern standards and practices, surgeries are inherently dangerous, especially around the spine. There is a risk that the surgery may not help her, or that it could make things worse. Additionally, some other unforeseen issue like an infection, for example, may arise as a result of the procedure. We simply can’t know. 

On the other hand, if she does nothing, the problem remains. She will have to live with the pain that has been bothering her for some time. Additionally, she has been warned by multiple doctors that, because her discs are pressing against her spinal cord, if left untreated, an accident could result in her being paralyzed from the neck down. This threat of paralysis is ultimately what motivated her to get the surgery. 

But I’m worried. I’m worried because I cannot predict the future and I don’t know what is going to happen. I’m worried because the whole thing is out of my control. While I know that this worry doesn’t help and it won’t change the outcome of the surgery, fear still haunts me. And yet, as I write this, I’m reminded that all God really asks from us is that we trust him. 

Since the beginning of time, God has been asking this one simple thing of his people, but, in spite of the fact that he is always faithful and always keeps his promises, we still hesitate. From Adam and Eve, Abraham, Noah, Moses, and the people of Israel, to David, the prophets, Mary, Joseph, the apostles, and Jesus himself, God asks us to trust him. 

He promises that he loves us, that he is always truthful, always faithful, always just, and that he will never lead us astray. He proves this in his written word in the Bible, in the living word of Jesus Christ, and in our own lives day in and day out. But like Adam and Eve in the Garden, we so often don’t believe him, like Moses at Mount Horeb, we are reluctant to answer his call, and like Thomas after the resurrection of Jesus, we doubt him and demand proof that he is who he says he is.

And yet, in spite of our prideful mistrust and disbelief, the Lord remains steadfast. He provides what we need, even when it is not what we think we want. He is faithful even when we are not and he loves us even when that love is not reciprocated. So, am I worried about my mother’s surgery? Yes. I am. Do I have reason to be? Well, I guess that depends which part of me you are asking. 

The selfish, broken, and sinful part of me worries because, like Adam and Eve, I have eaten the forbidden fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and I want to be like God, knowing what God knows, seeing what he sees, and determining the outcome of all things. But the faithful, trusting, and humble side of me knows that my Heavenly Father is always good, that he knows what is best, and that he has a plan that is beyond my understanding. And so I remain to pray. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

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